


Up on the Rooftop

by spikesgirl58



Series: Mouth of Babes [37]
Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:31:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The snow is blowing up a storm and travelis treacherous.  Will Santa make it in time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up on the Rooftop

The house shuddered at the impact of the wind and cracked a sharp warning to it.  It stood firm against the gale force winds.

“Boy, that old wind sure is blowing!”  Alex Solo looked up from the board game he was playing with his sister, Irina.  “Good thing you and Grampy built this place strong.”

“Well, we did have some help.”  Illya Kuryakin glanced up from the book he was reading to his youngest granddaughter.  “I just hope the shingles stay in place.”

“I hope Santa will be okay,” Inessa said, wringing her hands.  “He will be, won’t he, Poppy?”

 “I’m sure he’ll be fine.  He has Randolph, after all.”

“Rudolph,” Inessa corrected.  “And he’s only good for fog.”

“Oh.  Well, perhaps one of the other reindeers handles wind.” 

“There is a joke just begging to be made now.”  Napoleon Solo walked into the family room and smiled at the scene.  The fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace while Alex and Irina stretched out in front of it playing some game.   Peter was running his trucks around, over, and between the presents that were already stacked at the base of a large Christmas tree.  Inessa was sitting at a small table coloring and stared at the ceiling alternately.  Christmas music was playing softly and a feeling of contentment filled the room.  He placed a tray down on the coffee table and began dispensing snacks.

“Try to contain yourself, Napoleon.”  Illya returned to the book and Ginny bounced up and down on his knee with excitement.

“More, please,” she demanded, waving her tattered blue blanket and holding out a hand for a cookie.  Illya winced, but didn’t stop her.

“Sit still now or Poppy won’t be able to finish your story.” Napoleon gave her a colorfully frosted bell and caressed her soft curls.  “Sounds like Mr. Wind wants to come in and join the party, Ginny.”

“Well, I don’t want him to,” Inessa muttered as she selected another color crayon.  “He and that Mr. Jack Frost can just stay outside and freeze.”

“That’s telling them, Inessa.”  Napoleon set a plate with two colorful sugar cookies down close to her elbow.  “Where do you want me to put your milk?”

She gestured her hand, scattering crumbs. “Oh, between melon and mahogany would be fine.”    Chewy, stretched out on the floor, thumped his tail. 

“Huh?”  Napoleon stared down at the tangle of crayons.  “Which colors?”

Inessa stopped and reached for a pale green crayon and then a brown one.   “Melon and mahogany, Grampy.  Didn’t they teach you colors in school?”

“I went to a small school.  We only had nine colors.”  He put the glass of milk down and went on his way.  “Peter, you ready for a pit stop?”

“You bet!”  Peter abandoned the truck for a spot at the coffee table.  He studied the various shaped before holding up a carefully frosted reindeer.   “Are these the ones Mommy made?”

“I think so - why?”  Napoleon set a glass of milk down.

“Stuff always tastes best when it’s from Mommy.”

“I see.  I feel as if I should be offended in a way.”  The house creaked loudly and Napoleon looked at the roof.  “It certainly sounds like there’s quite a storm out there.”

“Well, if it’s too bad, the kids will stay in the City.”  Illya closed the book and grinned as Ginny hugged and kissed him.

“Thank you, sweet prince.”

“Again, I’m a prince.”  Illya smiled and hugged her back.

Napoleon walked over and stuffed a frosted star into Illya’s mouth. “I could think of worse things to be called.”  The house groaned and Napoleon sighed.  “I am wishing now that the kids passed on that party.”

“Napoleon, how often do they get a night out?  The UNCLE party is the biggest event of the year.”

“Don’t worry, Grampy.”  Inessa spared a moment from her drawing.  “Rudolph will help them find the way.”

Just then phone rang and Alex jumped up, Irina following at his heels.

“I got it!”

“No!  I got it!” Alex pushed her aside and snatched up the phone.  “I’m telling Santa!”

“He’s already left.  Solo residence.  Alex speaking.  Oh, hi, Genève.  Are you coming to have dinner with us tomorrow?   What?  Okay. “Alex placed a hand over the mouthpiece.  “Grampy, Genève wants to talk to you!”  He dropped the receiver on the table and raced back to the fire.  “You better not have cheated!”

Napoleon took the phone and cleared his throat.  “Yes, my sweet, what can I do for you?  Oh, Alexander, I thought it was… oh.  Well, they left here around six, I think.  It was just before the storm started up.  Alright, if we hear something, we’ll call.”  Napoleon slowly cradled the phone, his jovial mood gone.

Illya watched him sink to a chair and stood rapidly, placing Ginny on the floor.  He walked to Napoleon’s side and bent to place a hand on Napoleon’s shoulder.  Quietly, he asked, “Napoleon, what’s wrong?”

“Lisle and Leon haven’t made it to the party yet.  Genève is worried.”

“Maybe the train was late or the storm slowed it down.”  Illya snapped his fingers.  “Try Leon’s communicator.  The man sleeps with the thing.”

Napoleon smiled, relieved, and reached into his shirt pocket for his.  Even though he was retired, he liked keeping it close at hand.  “What was I thinking?  Open Channel A.  Mr. Solo, can you hear me?”

There was a muffled on/off blat from the closet and Illya frowned.  He opened the door and coming from Leon’s work jacket was the sound.  Illya pulled the communicator and a small note from the pocket.  “ _Lisle made me leave it.”_ Illya read out loud.  “So much for that idea.”

“Boy, look at those trees!”  Peter said.  He’d carried his cookie to a large bay window.

The two men walked to a living room window and looked out into the night.  It was nearly impossible to see the distant forest, but the trees that lined either side of the long driveway bowed and swayed as if they were Hawaiian dancers.  There was a sharp crack and one suddenly broke in the wind, crashing to the ground.

Napoleon took a deep breath and looked down as Illya’s hand grasped his forearm and squeezed gently.

“I’m getting kinda worried about Santa,” Inessa said again, swinging her feet under her chair.  “What if he can’t find us?”

“Tell you what,” Illya said.  “What if we turn on the TV?  Channel Seven said they were going to be tracking Santa all night.”

The thought of TV made a ripple of excitement run through the children and they immediately took up a position in front of the set.

Illya turned on it on and twisted the dial to seven.  A cartoon was playing, something about a snowman, and Illya returned to Napoleon’s side.  He tugged the man away from the window and to the couch.  “They’re okay, Napoleon.”

“We interrupt _Frosty’s Greatest Adventure_ to bring you this breaking news.”  Both men looked at the TV as the coloring animation was replaced by a grave-looking reporter.  “Officials are reporting that there has been a major accident on the Wade/Selmont rail line.  At this time, details are sketchy, but it is believed that at least a dozen people are dead.”

“That’s the train the kids were taking,” Napoleon whispered. “It was an express and Leon thought it would get them into the city faster.”

“The names of the victims are not being released pending notification of relatives.”

Alex had left the TV and returned to the window.  “Hey, Grampy, there’s a car coming up the drive!  It’s a Highway Patrol car.”

“Oh my God.” Napoleon’s hand went to his chest and he gasped.

“Alex, go get Grampy’s medicine.  Mommy keeps it in the downstairs bathroom.”  A sharp knock on the door interrupted Illya.  “Napoleon, I want you to listen to me.  You need to stay calm.  Please.  I need you to be okay.”

Napoleon nodded sharply and stared at the floor, jumping at the second knock.  Illya patted Napoleon’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and went to the door.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alex hand the bottle of nitro to Napoleon and his partner took out a pill and put it in his mouth.

 _Make me strong_ , Illya thought and opened the door.

“Mr. Kuryakin?”

“Yes…  Officer MacFerson, isn’t it?”

“That it is.  Listen, Mr. Kuryakin, I’ve got a couple of reprobates I’d like to turn over to you.”

“What?  Who?”  Illya looked past the man, relieved to see Leon groping his way from the car.  Leon spread his arms wide and laughed, spinning as the snow spilled around him.  Lisle followed, laughing at his antics as she and a strange woman got out of the car.  “Oh, Officer, you don’t know how happy I am to see those two.”  He turned back.  “Napoleon, come and talk some sense to your son.”

Napoleon let his head fall forward in heartfelt prayer and then walked quickly to the door.  “What happened?”

“Train got delayed, so they apparently decided to wait for it in the local tavern.  Me and the missus met them there.  We started drinking and talking and they totally missed the train.  We were going to call, but the damn phone was out.  So we had dinner, some drinks, and good cheer.  It was about then that we noticed the weather.  I have four-wheel drive on my car, so I thought I’d best give them a ride home.”  The man swayed slightly and Illya grinned as Napoleon joined him.

“By the looks of it, you and your wife better come in and stay the night.  The way the snow is coming down, you are going to need a sleigh to get home.”  Napoleon ushered them all in

“Don’t want to put you out--”  MacFerson started.

“Plenty of room,” Leon interrupted as he stumbled up the two steps to the porch.  “We have two best grooms and now we have bests.  I like it when things work out like that.”  He laughed and headed for the living room, more or less…

Illya felt something tugging the hem of his shirt and he looked down to his oldest granddaughter.  “Poppy, what’s wrong with Daddy?”  Irina’s voice was concerned.

“Nothing, he’s just had a bit of Christmas cheer.  We could all use a bit of that, now that I think about it.”

“Hey!”  Peter raced out of the living room.  “The reporter guy just came on and said that Santa is headed in our direction.”

“You’d better all head up for bed, hip hop!” Napoleon pointed and, for once, none of the children protested.  As for himself, Santa had already arrived and he’d just given Napoleon the best Christmas gift possible.  He smiled at Illya and his partner smiled back.  There really was no place like home for the holidays.

 


End file.
